Today a quick unpublished poem —
I survey the bedroom as I stare in dismay.
Each place that I look, things are in disarray.
Toys scattered about, all over the floor.
I can’t even walk around anymore.
The beds are unmade, pillows scattered around.
There’s no sense of order at all to be found.
Clothes piled in the corner, are they dirty or clean?
Everywhere I look, it’s a chaotic scene.
It’s times like this, when my mind wanders to
the most profound thought, What Would Mary Poppins Do?